Crazy Paving
by tromana
Summary: Memories are tricky to control - especially when you have Patrick Jane hounding you about it. Jane/Lisbon friendship. Spoilers for 2x20 Red All Over. Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** And again with the Summer Secret Santa fics. I have 2 more multiparters to start uploading following this as well as a handful of oneshots... so I'm making up for my mini hiatus. Or at least, I hope I am.

This was written for boutondor and was beta'd by Divinia Serit.

I'm going to shut up now. I've been away for too long to warrant rambling.

x tromana

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**Title:** Crazy Paving  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Memories are tricky to control - especially when you have Patrick Jane hounding you about it. Jane/Lisbon friendship.  
**Spoilers: **Up to 2x20 Red All Over  
**Notes:** Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa. Beta'd by Divinia Serit. Thank you!

**Crazy Paving**

_"A woman, especially, if she has the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can." _- Jane Austen

**Part One**

Seconds after she allowed the front door to click firmly shut, her front door keys fell to the ground with a satisfying clatter. Before she even had a chance to realize what was happening, Teresa Lisbon's knees buckled and she soon found herself sitting, leaning up against it. She pulled her knees to her chest, tightly wrapped her arms around her legs and took a few deep breaths. It had taken all of her well-honed self control to get this far, to actually make it home before allowing her emotions to get the better of her, A lesser woman certainly wouldn't have managed it, but that was besides the point. Anyway, she had an image to uphold - not just in front of the general public, but in front of her team as well. She couldn't show any sign of weakness until she was (literally) behind closed doors; it just wouldn't have been _right_.

It was her own damn fault that she was getting so emotional anyway. He may have solved countless crimes for her now, but Patrick Jane was still a law unto himself. She shouldn't have just trusted him implicitly when he said he knew who the killer was. Jane had proven himself unreliable time and time again so there was no reason why this should be any different. Of course, she'd insisted upon him telling her the basics of his plan - and it had literally been the bare bones. That he was going to manipulate Alexander Harrington into confessing to his granddaughter and all they'd need was a clever ruse to get them alone together to do just that. Lisbon hadn't been much keen on the idea - catapulting young Ashley into danger again was foolhardy, even if Cho was watching their every move. If Jane was right, and he had been, then they could have left a little girl at the mercy of a killer. He'd already killed her father, what was to stop him from killing the next generation too?

She'd been so preoccupied with concerns over the child's safety that she had entirely missed the finer details of Jane's explanations of the mind games he intended to carry out.

And now, now she was sorely regretting it. She was grateful that it was yet another closed case - and one that Hightower hadn't felt the need to berate her over too. But still, in a way, she would have preferred that a thousand times over compared to how she was actually feeling. The moment Jane had revealed one of Ashley's teacups in Xander Harrington's private office, she knew exactly where it was headed. She literally had to bite down on her tongue to prevent herself from calling out and undoing the entire set up. It had also taken her half a minute or so to remind herself that Ashley never saw the death of her Daddy, that she hadn't been forced to endure such an emotionally scarring event first-hand.

But that was never going to be enough to stop the emotional blow that she had been struck full-force with. The one that had sent her catapulting back through memories she had been expertly repressing for years and hadn't had any intention of revisiting. Intentions were not enough stop herself from forcibly having to face those demons again though, however much she wished they were.

Barely an hour later and she had finally managed to tear her way from her door and go upstairs. A bath had seemed like a good idea. Dipping her hand tentatively in the water, she considered it to be a little on the hot side, though most sensible people would think it scalding. That didn't stop Lisbon from immersing herself, relaxing into the piles of bubbles. She hoped that their gentle scent would soothe her tired mind as the water relieved her aching muscles. After a couple of minutes of just sitting and enjoying the sensation of the warm water, she sat up, took a sip of her tea and grimaced at the bitter aftertaste due to over-stewing. With a frustrated sigh, she scrabbled for her book - a new, somewhat inaccurate crime thriller. It was a distraction of sorts, a neat little puzzle for her to focus on instead. Even without the day's events, she would have most likely found herself reading it anyway. Lisbon wasn't particularly happy unless she had something to think about, some sort of riddle to decipher. It was why she loved her job so much and how she knew that she was well suited to it, regardless of what her doubters, including Hightower, thought.

Just as she was beginning to relax, her telephone tore through the silence, making her jump slightly. Scowling, Lisbon threw the book across the bathroom and it crashed into the radiator, causing the towel to fall to a ground in a heap. Hurriedly, she stepped out of the still-boiling hot bath and shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature. Quickly scooping up the towel and wrapping it around her lithe body, she bolted to her bedroom and reached the phone just as it went to voicemail. Cursing, she flopped onto her bed, not caring about the fact that she hadn't dried off properly. All she wanted to do was relax but it seemed the world was conspiring against her.

Her bedroom didn't remain silent for long. Half a minute later, the landline resumed its incessant ringing and she actually managed to pick it up in time. After tucking a couple of tendrils of loose hair behind her ear, she pressed the receiver firmly in place and answered the call. Half of her expected Madeleine Hightower's dulcet tones to reply, telling her that she had already been assigned another case. So, when Jane answered her, she was slightly surprised and almost disappointed. The idea of moving onto another case had been quite a pleasant concept, even if she did feel like she was half asleep. Being probed by Jane, however, was not and she didn't even bother trying to hide her irritation.

"There's something troubling you," he blurted out, not even bothering with niceties. At least it explained why he was calling her so late in the day.

"You don't say," she replied promptly, her tone droll.

"No need to be sarcastic."

"Go away, Jane," she snapped and her finger hovered dangerously close to the button that would end the telephone call.

"Talk to me."

"Why?"

"You'll feel better."

She snorted and could practically imagine the hurt expression that Jane was more than likely wearing. The man really didn't take rejection well, especially if he believed he had somebody's best interests at heart. Then, he seemed to see it as his duty to annoy the hell out of them until they divulged whatever secrets they had and then embarrass them about them.

"Oh believe me, I won't."

"Sure you will," he replied flippantly. "Doesn't everyone say that a problem shared is a problem halved?"

"Everyone deserves to have some secrets, Jane, please let me have this one," she whispered, hoping that, for once, he'd take her seriously. "You know that of all people."

"Lisbon…"

"Please?"

He fell briefly silent and then quickly bid her farewell. She allowed herself to fall back on her bed, feeling even more uneasy. Jane hadn't even agreed to leave her alone for now and simply said he'd see her in the morning, but she knew him well, almost _too_ well. She knew that it would continue to bother him, niggling away at the back of his mind. Sooner or later - and probably sooner - it would grow too much and he would approach her again.

And she didn't like the idea of that.

It was bad enough thinking of it at all, never mind talking about it.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** So, this is me updating whilst Chibi's still in bed. I need to wake her up in 50 minutes. That'll be fun.

Thank you to: JisbonvsCaskett, loveit, Jisbon4ever, lisbon69, Famous4it, autumnftw, ch19777, Sarcastic Pygmy and The Mentalist Rules for reviewing part one. Especially so to loveit, Jisbon4ever and lisbon69, all of whom logged in anonymously. So, thanks!

Thanks also to Divinia Serit for betaing.

x tromana

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**Part Two**

She slept fitfully that night, barely getting a couple of hours sleep.

The nightmares had, unsurprisingly enough, returned. Though she had managed to get herself into a relatively calm state before eventually turning in for the night, no amount of compartmentalization could control the images she saw. It was almost as though she was cursed to remember, cursed to replay things she'd rather forget. If it were feasibly possible to blank out those memories, Lisbon knew that she would choose to in a flash. She swore that it would be easier not knowing than constantly being haunted by such things, even with her past experience of her mind blanking memories out in a drug-induced haze. Her Dad had managed to, through alcohol, before he'd died, much to the expense of those around him and Lisbon was still yet to forgive him for that.

But still, she wasn't so lucky. Wasn't so able to control what she did and didn't remember.

It also didn't help that she now had a blond consultant who was not only determined to be the perpetual thorn in her side, but also actively brought those recollections back again. Lisbon didn't blame him though. For once, the repercussions of Jane's actions weren't actually his fault, they were hers. She should have had a thicker skin by now, been able to differentiate between his fabrications and reality. Should never have made the connection between what Jane had been saying and her childhood.

Still, it was too late now. The damage was done. And if she wasn't careful, she'd be running late for work. Something which would get the others questioning, look bad in front of Hightower and just cause her hassle whatever way she looked at it. As Lisbon gazed into the mirror, she realized that the restless night had really taken its toll on her. A lack of sleep was never a good thing, especially when you needed particularly large patience reserves. When applying her makeup, she just hoped that Jane would actually decide to behave himself for a change, or at least, leave for her alone. She snorted derisively. Of course he wouldn't do that kind of thing. Knowing Jane, he would probably wreak as much havoc as physically possible just because it was so _him_ to do so when she was feeling under the weather.

A few hours later, a new case and she soon had Jane tugging at her elbow, desperate to pull her aside for that dreaded talk. She'd known that he wouldn't let the matter drop but this was not the time nor place to even discuss her problems, never mind talk in depth about them. Besides, he had a job to do. Or rather, wander around the relatives house, poke his nose in where it wasn't wanted and then announce grandly who the killer was two days later when he had finished theorizing on the couch. She knew he was persistent, but it eventually got to the stage where she had to fabricate a task for him and Rigsby to do simply to get him out of her hair. It wasn't essential that they looked at the crime scene again, but at the very least, it gave her some peace and quiet for a short while. She could focus on paperwork back at CBI headquarters while they went on a wild goose chase.

Her heart sank slightly when Van Pelt entered her office the moment Jane and Rigsby left. The expression on the red head's face clearly stated that her actions, which were justifiably out of sorts, hadn't gone unnoticed. The woman sat down and quickly outlined what she had discovered. Apparently, their victim was a degenerate gambler who owed large sums of money to several people. At least the case was looking rather open and shut and didn't involve anything bizarre like pseudo-ghosts again or clowns or something equally ridiculous. She _hated _clowns. Though, there was always time for that in the future. Though, the simplicity probably meant a bored Jane and a bored Jane meant he was even more likely to come and bother her when he got back. She shook her head slightly and quickly remembered to thank Van Pelt who was still yet to leave.

"Are you alright, Boss?" she queried gently and Lisbon sighed, quickly pressing her index fingers to her temples in order to stave off the impending headache.

"M'fine," she muttered and the younger woman looked at her skeptically. "Just a headache. Didn't sleep well last night."

"Well… if there's anything I can do?"

'_Your job, perhaps?' _Lisbon thought, albeit rather cruelly but instead shook her head and dismissed the younger woman. She glanced at her watch. It wouldn't be long until Jane was back.

As expected, Jane cornered her within half an hour in the kitchenette. He was wearing that determined expression and she knew exactly what that meant: he wasn't going to be willing to leave without some answers. If she didn't tell him automatically, Jane would find a way to almost trick her into telling him unless she could persuade him otherwise. That idea unnerved her; but she'd seen him do it so many times with suspects, that it wouldn't surprise her if he tried to use the same skills on her. Especially because he was intrigued enough - and Jane hated not knowing something. With a sigh, she took her coffee in one hand and grabbed his elbow with the other, dragging him back to her office where they would have some semblance of privacy. The walls were just pre-fabricated and clearly thin enough to allow anyone to hear anything through them but she liked the concept of being shut away rather than chancing anyone walking in on their inevitable conversation.

Jane ended up just sitting opposite her, simply staring and Lisbon wished that either she would disappear or that a suitable excuse to be excused would crop up. The tension laid thick in the air and both remained in silence, just looking at each other, almost daring one another to make the first move.

"This is to do with your family, isn't it?" he eventually said and she glanced away, unwilling to hold her gaze with him. "Your brothers are the only people who can get such a reaction out of you."

"Jane, just leave it."

"No," he persisted, almost glaring at her. "This is just going to eat you up alive if you don't talk about it."

"Hypocrite."

"And?"

"Red John killed your loved ones, mine tore each other apart," she eventually snapped, fed up of his attitude and it took her a few seconds to realize what she had just said. "I'm… sorry Jane. That was wrong of me."

"Don't be, I was pushing you too far. Why don't you want to discuss what's wrong?" he asked in a low voice.

"I just told you why," she growled and for once in his life, Jane looked rather surprised.

"Lisbon, I'm…"

He reached out and placed a tender hand on her shoulder instead of finishing off his sentence. It saddened him a little when she shied away from it, but he immediately understood why she did so. Lisbon wasn't exactly the type to seek out physical comforts. And besides, she wasn't actually looking for pity, least of all from him. If anything, she had been trying to avoid it but he hadn't given her much of a choice. He could tell that all she wanted was to be able to stop thinking about it and get back to normal.

"Don't be."

Her expression was defiant though the quiver of her bottom lip suggested she was moments away from breaking down. Quickly, he apologized, much to her irritation and he pulled back and gave her some space again, mentally kicking himself. Lisbon turned away from him and he briefly saw that her look was still defiant, almost screaming 'I hope you're happy.' But no, he wasn't. And yet, for what was quite possibly the first time in his life, he was backing down from a fight. Partially, out of respect for Lisbon but mainly because it was too dangerous poking the figurative starving tiger.

He just hoped that one day, she would see fit to confide in him about the family problems that were troubling her. It wasn't healthy for her to continually compartmentalize them like that.

Jane had a feeling that it would take quite some time, however.

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks to Cat for the prompt once more - it was a joy writing for you in the Summer Secret Santa, really it was. This would have been longer - but I didn't want to defy the whole objective of the prompt. That would have made me feel rather uncomfortable. Instead, this is the last part.

Thanks also to Div for betaing despite being super busy (or were you not quite busy yet when I finished this? I can't remember) and to: lisbon69, macisgate, Jisbon4ever, yaba, Viktorija, autumnftw, Famous4it and ch19777 for reviewing.

Next, I'll start posting _Emerald City_. I mostly want to avoid having 2 Red John fics posting together... and as Army is still taking up that slot...

x tromana

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**Part Three**

_**20**__**th**__** May 1985**_

It was just a month until her birthday.

A month until she became a teen.

Not that it made all that much difference. Her mom was usually too busy chasing after her brothers as well as dealing with little Tommy and the less said about her Dad, the better. Most normal children were worried about inane things: getting hold of the latest craze, hobbies, homework. Teresa Lisbon's concerns extended to whether or not her father had managed to avoid the alcohol that night. There was a time when he'd been okay, the model father even. But that was before Tommy had been born. When it had been just herself, Jake and Eddie.

Tommy had changed everything.

Teresa had loved the idea of yet another younger sibling, but her Dad had been less than thrilled at the unexpected arrival, to the extent that he avoided spending time in the house. And when he was at home, he was either barely conscious and wandering around in a drunken stupor or having screaming matches over his attitude with her Mom. She didn't know which was worse though and tried to avoid thinking about it, if at all possible. Especially as she was a young girl going through a terribly emotional time of her life. She was growing up and all she wanted was her Mommy to be there for her and her Dad to hold her hand.

At that very moment, both of them were out. Her brothers, excepting Tommy who was busy napping, were playing in the back yard whereas she was sitting on the doorstep watching as people came and went. Teresa enjoyed people watching, wondering what secrets everyone else held. If they were anything like the ones her life hid, they had to be pretty interesting. Just how many of her neighbors were unhappy? How many were _criminals_? It didn't matter whether or not her imagination was even close to the mark, it was still fun to imagine.

She rolled up the sleeve of her sweater and briefly glanced at her watch. Her Mom should be back soon. She'd said the trip to the market would only take half an hour or so, but it had already taken her forty five minutes. But Teresa knew what her Mom was like. It was more than likely that she had bumped into a friend, or maybe her Aunt Susie and lost track of the time. Teresa shook her head and smiled as she finally saw her mother reappear, arms laden with bags. Within seconds, she got to her feet and started half skipping and half running towards her mother. She'd want help and it was an automatic reaction to go and take some of the heavy bags off of her.

Teresa froze, however, when the sound of screeching tires approached. People normally drove at a reasonable speed down their little neighborhood. There were kids all over the place and nobody wanted to risk mowing one of them down. It was impossible to predict when a stray ball would go flying over a fence or a kid would come running out into the middle of the road, trailing after a beloved pet. So, the noise was strange, foreign for where they lived. She cocked her head slightly and frowned in the direction of her mother, who simply shrugged her shoulders in response and continued to close the three hundred or so yards between them.

Everything happened at once.

The car pausing, only a short distance away from the pair of them. Then suddenly speeding up once more.

Teresa jumped out of the way.

Her Mom dropped the bag. And running, running away as fast as she could in those terribly impractical high heels.

Teresa covered her eyes, but the hearing was bad enough. Especially as she couldn't resist peeking. She always had to know what was going on around her.

The sound of a body coming into contact with metal. The sight of her mother flying unceremoniously through the air.

Eventually, nothing at all was happening. It was only then when she managed to peel herself away from the spot.

The silence was almost as strange as the noise the tires had been making beforehand. Teresa started jogging, then broke out into a run, desperate to reach her mother, who laid sprawled on the sidewalk, with a couple of apples slowly rolling away from her. Her Dad, who had been driving the car, flew out of it and grabbed his wife's hand. Seconds later, he screamed at his daughter to go call 911 instead of seeing the state of her mother was in.

She fumbled through the words, but somehow managed to get her point across to the kind woman on the other end of the phone. Within the hour, her Mom and Dad were both in hospital as medics tried to save the woman's life. Teresa and her brothers, however, had been dumped at Aunt Susie's, while the woman put a brave face on it all and tried to pretend to the kids that her sister-in-law was absolutely not dying and would be right as rain within the week.

Teresa's aunt couldn't continue with that façade when the news came through that Rebecca Lisbon had indeed passed on, leaving her four children motherless.

It seemed that everyone forgot that Teresa had actually seen the incident. Nobody talked to her about it and instead, they acted as if she had rather mercifully been playing with her brothers rather than waiting for her parents to get home on the front doorstep. Every time she approached someone to discuss it, she found people hushing her, not wanting to talk about the tragic demise of a much loved member of the community. It didn't matter that she had seen her Dad brake briefly before changing direction and practically aiming for her mother. As far as everyone else was concerned, her father had lost control of the car when skidding on an oily patch in the road, despite the fact there was no oil.

And it certainly didn't matter that, if at all possible, her father's behavior grew even worse after the funeral than it was beforehand.

Nor that a young woman would have to deal with the emotional scarring for the rest of her life.

000

_**Present Day**_

She smiled briefly as Patrick Jane not only placed a completed report on her desk, but a slice of banana cake too. Lisbon hadn't had the luxury of cake for longer than she cared to admit, probably since Cho's birthday and it never ceased to make her smile. It reminded her of the carefree days, when her brothers were busy outside playing in the sand pit and her Mom would pull her aside to bake. That was before she had found herself running the home, with the occasional help from her aunt. Before her Dad had died too.

"Good?"

"Mhm," she somehow mumbled with a mouthful of the treat.

"Van Pelt made it. Closed case treat," Jane announced and Lisbon looked at him quizzically. "Yes, it's a little late considering we closed the case two days ago, but that's not really the point, is it?"

"I thought you didn't deem open and shut cases worthy of celebration?"

"Obviously Van Pelt thought otherwise," he stated noncommittally and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Or she thought you needed cheering up."

Lisbon glanced away, feeling absolutely mortified. She hated the idea of bringing her personal life into work with her and clearly hadn't been succeeding all that well at keeping things separate of late. Still, at least time marched on and as the little reminder of her history became more vague, so did the memories. It wouldn't be too long until she was back to normal; only a couple of weeks or so, she figured. Lisbon sighed briefly. She'd just have to make sure that she at least appeared to have some semblance of normalcy during office hours.

"I know I don't know what's wrong, but I hope it'll get easier," Jane spoke and gently squeezed her hand. "If you do want to…"

"I know," she whispered, carefully extracting her limb from Jane's. "Thank you."

He nodded gently and her eyes didn't leave him as he left the room. Patrick Jane did have an oddly sweet streak on occasion; he just tended to keep it hidden underneath his arrogant, smug persona. Lisbon picked up the cake and eyed it seriously. Maybe one day she'd trust him enough to tell him what was troubling her.

For now, she was happy enough battling it on her own. It was better that way.

end


End file.
